Night Terrors Trap
by Onigiriareyummy
Summary: What if Torpor the "friendly" Sloth demon was a bit more like the Sloth demon from  Broken Circle? Hawke and her crew are trapped in their own dream bubbles, but when Hawke sees how happy her dear Anders is in the Fade, can she, or will she, wake him up?
1. Chapter 1

Night Terror Traps

_(A/N: I wrote this in response to a prompt on the dragon age kink meme, and I liked it so much I'm posting it here. ^_^ The general premise is that instead of the dinky Fade sequence we got in DA2, it was more like Broken Circle, with "helpful" Torpor sending our merry band of adventurers into their own Fade dream bubbles. Enjoy! And comment! I3 comments)_

The voice is faint, "Sister…sister…" it gradually grows louder and louder, now the voice is calling her name, angry now,"Andraste's flaming sword Marian!" ,something small hits her square in the forehead. A pea? "Pass the rolls you twit!" Hawke blinks a couple times and looks around, momentarily bewildered.

"Carver! No name-calling!" Leandra gives her son her most scathing glare. Marian looks at the faces sitting around the table with her. Mother, Father, Carver, Bethany; they're all there. That's right isn't it? Why wouldn't they all be there? Still a bit befuddled, Hawke passes the basket full of steaming hot rolls towards her annoying younger brother. She must have been having one heck of a daydream, Maker knows she's prone to them, but it is odd that she can only remember the barest bits and pieces.

The family, used to their eldest daughter's tendency to daydream, continues on with the conversation that had been taking place. "So, Bethany, what were you saying about the wedding?" Their mother can barely contain her joy at her perfectly _normal_ daughter marrying the Arl's youngest son. Not a glamorous life, but a comfortable, _normal_, one.

As Bethany happily chatters about floral arrangements and such, Hawke still can't shake the nagging feeling that's she's forgetting something…_someone_…important. Something her mother says catches her attention, "Now if only Marion could find a nice man to settle down with…" Hawke snaps to attention, an answer flying out of her mouth before she can even comprehend the words.

"I do have someone!" Four pairs of eyes stare at Marian, Bethany's jaw slightly agape, it was no secret that the eldest Hawke sibling was notoriously picky with men. In fact, she was one of the few young women, Bethany another of that prestigious group, who hadn't been associated with some sort of playful roll in the hay with a strapping farm lad or two. "Wait, do I? Yes, I do…" Carver is the first to break the shocked silence.

"Well? Out with it! Who is it? You can't just leave us hanging…" Pieces come to her, slowly but steadily…

"He's…a mage. Like me and Papa…" Hands, healing. "More specifically, he's a healer, a very good one. He runs his own clinic." Where, though? She couldn't remember. How queer. "He also loves cats…" She giggles to herself as a pieced-together memory presents itself. " He used to have a cat named Ser-Pounce-A-Lot, as a matter of fact, his sense of humor is just as strange as mine is I guess." A furrowed, serious brow, "At least, when he lets it out, he's obsessed with…something…and it makes him painfully miserable, but he can't let it go, not just for himself, but for…"

Suddenly she stands and slams her fist on the table. "He's also infuriatingly stubborn! He gets so wrapped up in his blighted cause that he forgets to eat! He also has this maddening habit to pout at me until I give into whatever he wants!" His name, why can't she think of his name? "Not to mention…" Something's wrong…Hawke looks up and her family is still there, but now she can feel the wrongness of it. Ah, there it is…

"Anders has been the greatest support I could have asked for, if not for him, I'd be all alone, crushed under the weight of the grief I bear from losing all of you." Hawke smiles as the tears run down her pale cheeks in icy rivulets. Maybe it would have been better not to remember; maybe the lie of having her family, even just one of them, back would have been worth living in this illusion. But, this was a game that she would not let some demon best her at.

As the shades shed their human appearance, Marion reaches for her staff, and is filled with bright, burning resolve. "I shall not let some third-rate spirits take him from me!" Marion Hawke _will_ find her mage, and she _will_ bring him back. Even if she has to burn the entire Fade to do it.


	2. Chapter 2

Ah, it was so nice for life to be just so pleasantly boring for a change. The Blight was officially over, the Architect was dead, and he was finally, blissfully, free. Free of the Circle, and of their gargoyle watchers. Sure he was bound to the Wardens in Amaranthine, but it was a yoke he was almost glad to bear. They let him do pretty much whatever he pleased, even being able to shoot lightning at fools. He tried to use that privilege responsibly, but the main point was he could do so if he could properly justify it to the Warden-Commander. She was a mage as well, and an elf at that. True, she could be a bit bossy, but it was well-meaning bossing. Yes, ser. Life certainly was good.

Ser-Pounce unceremoniously pounced onto his lazy, bed-ridden form. Anders hesitantly cracked open one eye. "What? It's not even noon yet. If Nathaniel hasn't beckoned, you know we don't wake up before then." The cat hissed and swiped at his nose. "Oww!" Anders rolled out of bed, the very smug kitty landing gracefully next to his face-planted master.

"Meow." A very smug kitty indeed. Anders groaned, accepting his defeat at the hands…er, paws…of his feline companion. He managed to get dressed and out his chamber door in record time, thanks in no small part to Ser-Pounce-A-Lot hissing and swatting at his heels. The mage began walking towards the dining hall when the strangest urge to go the long way around, through the receiving chamber struck him. Oddly enough, his fickle, grouchy, still smug cat followed right behind him, pleased as punch.

"Your willpower is strong mage, but you will not…"Nathaniel sounded even more grumpy than usual, which was really saying something. Anders rounded a corner to see the unfortunate creature forced to deal with Nate's surliness at this time of the morning. Time momentarily stopped and something within Anders shook.

The girl matching Howe's fierce glower…he _knew_ her. He didn't know _how_ but he knew her. The upward tilt of her mouth, always giving the impression that everything around her was in some way amusing, the fair skin that did not hesitate to burn to a crisp in the sun, the mischievous sparkle of her silvery-blue eyes. Every mahogany hair, every freckle, every little scar…he felt as if he had spent years memorizing her every precious feature."Ha…" Tears threatened to seep from his eyes when something shifted yet again, and he felt like himself again.

Anders couldn't quite remember what he had been thinking about when the young woman, clothed in the fancy Grey Warden armor that Weisshaupt had been trying to force down their throats, shot Nathaniel one last, nasty glare and sauntered over to him. Without hesitation she thrust out a letter with the seal of the Warden-Commander of Amaranthine, addressed to him. The mage blinked and took the letter, taking a moment to appraise this very delightful specimen of a lady. She was tall, and very well formed, just his type really. He had to give her credit, she wasn't the least bit perturbed at his visual examination, just slightly annoyed.

Finally able to turn his gaze from the lovely lady, he scanned the letter. "Ah, so you're a new recruit from…Kirkwall?" Just saying the city's name made him a bit angry, though he couldn't think of why. "Here to receive training from…me? Well, that's unexpected. "The girl, whose name was Marian, no last name given, oddly enough, smiled a bit sadly.

"Not really, I was recruited as an apostate, and part of the agreement in saving me was that if I survived the Joining, I was to train to be a spirit healer. The Wardens could always use more, you know, and the Warden-Commander suggested you as the very best in Thedas." Anders smiled broadly and chuckled.

"I'm the best in Thedas for many things Lady Marian, healing is only one of my lesser talents." If she was to be his apprentice, she'd best get used to his wildly inappropriate flirting. To Anders's delight she began to laugh heartily, Ser-Pounce wound his way about her ankles, and Marion stooped to let him hop onto her shoulders. Anders thought darkly about what a traitor his cat was turning into, but Marian snapped him quickly out of his sulk with a dazzling smile.

"Well, perhaps I should look forward to learning some of those other talents as well Ser Mage."She winked at him. "Now which way is the dining room? I'm starving!" Anders nearly tripped over his own feet showing this mesmerizing creature the way. All the while sending his thanks to the Maker for placing her in his path. He never even noticed the way Nathaniel watched her like a hawk hunting a mouse.


	3. Chapter 3 A

Intermission: Ander's Perspective

Anders couldn't remember a time when he'd be happier, Marian's presence felt like the last piece of a puzzle snapping into place. She was what he had been missing, and he had never realized it. The past three months had sped by in a blur of joyful laughter, feisty arguments, and poorly-executed healing spells. For the life of him, Anders could not figure out how someone could contain so much power, yet not be able to cast a single spell without becoming exhausted for hours afterward. It was almost as if most of her magical power was diverted elsewhere.

Yet, he took this absolute lack of progress as a blessing. The longer it took her to learn the skills she had been sent to him to learn, the longer she would get to stay. Her lack of progress, he supposed could be chalked up, in part, to his finding diversions that would take them out of Vigil's Keep. Herb picking, poultice delivering, drinking contests, hiding Velanna's things in trees…so many things really. Another thing he couldn't begin to fathom was how most of the other Wardens treated her cautiously, even coldly. Normally perky, yet morbid, Sigrun barely gave her the time of day. And there was the cat thing.

She did nothing to cause such unease, yet sometimes Marian would begin to talk about her old home, Kirkwall and Anders couldn't deny that those talks put him on edge. It wasn't a malevolent unease; they just gave him an unpleasant, nagging feeling that he was forgetting something very important, something important about his subordinate and himself. He had kept the growing disquiet to himself, until he had gone with Justice to his weekly visit to Kristoff's grieving widow.

Anders began with their normalized ritual of sprucing up the body Justice inhabited, before taking him into Amaranthine, when the thought occurred to him to ask the Fade Spirit's opinion about the newest addition to their happy little family at the Vigil. "Say, what do you think of the new Warden, Marian?"

"She seems perfectly capable, other than that, I know not what to say." Justice paused thoughtfully. "You seem to spend much of your time with her, would you not know her better than I?" Anders sighed as he focused on reversing as much of the decaying flesh on Kristoff's face as he could.

"I suppose I do, I quite enjoy spending time with her," That was an understatement, "it's just, sometimes, when she talks about Kirkwall, it makes me uncomfortable. Apparently, there were a lot of refugees before the Blight ended, many died, and the mages there…" Anders felt it again, the weird pull in his chest, a physical manifestation of the stress he felt just thinking about the place Marian called The Gallows. "I almost feel as if we should go there, help…" Justice turned on his companion, and practically bellowed.

"No! It is not your concern. You should stay here! It would be a grave injustice to those at Vigil's keep if you were to abandon it for some woman's folly." The mage was taken aback; he had never thought Justice would react in such a way, especially not when such a grave injustice…

He was in bed, night had fallen, and Anders was understandably perplexed. Hadn't he just been with Justice? No, that had been earlier. Maker, was he tired. The Fade Spirit was his friend, but sometimes he could be such a prig. Why couldn't he remember what they had been arguing about? It must not have been anything important.

Anders relaxed and was about to allow himself to pass into the peaceful embrace of slumber, he wasn't plagued by nightmares like many other Wardens, when the sound of his chamber door opening snapped him back to wakefulness. He sat up and looked towards the door. The gentle female voice that greeted him sent a shiver down his spine.

"Anders…" Marion slid into his room, closing the door silently behind her, leaving only the cool glow of moonlight streaming through his window to illuminate her form. Anders groin tightened painfully as he realized that her silver-tinged body was clothed in nothing more than a transparent white nightgown. The usually smooth mage grasped futilely for words as she climbed onto the bed, hovering over him on her hands and knees, his only reward was to have his agape mouth covered by hers. Her kiss was filled with desperation, and he gave into it. Anders wrapped his arms around Marion and pressed his little apostate against him, needing her as much as she needed him.

The world began to shatter.


	4. Chapter 3 B

Intermission: Hawke's Perspective

The past few hours had been the longest of Hawke's life. Merrill and Varric had been easily found and rescued, but Anders was proving to be much more difficult. At first, she had thought that the demon enspelling him had been more powerful than the others, but as time went by she came to the troubling realization that it was Anders making this so difficult. He just didn't want to wake up.

Hawke didn't know what she would have done if she, Merrill, and a very helpful spirit of Compassion hadn't figured out a way to manipulate the dream bubble her renegade Warden was trapped in. They couldn't do much but alter the way time was perceived inside, but it had originally given them an edge. It had allowed for Marian's foreign presence to become an ingrained part of the dream, earning his trust. It should have been easy.

Damn his stubbornness! Every time she began to get through to him, he would retreat even further inwardly, and the demons would accommodate him by shifting the dreamscape back to the idealized Amaranthine he held so dear. As the hours ticked by, Hawke saw her resolve begin to falter. She started to not want to wake him up.

Maker knew she loved him, and wanted to share her life with him, but she had never seen him so happy. This dream was allowing her to see the man he had been before his willing possession by Justice, and all that followed. It was breaking her heart, and it was causing the spirit to doubt how compassionate their actions truly were. If Varric, unfortunately relegated to the form of Anders's beloved cat hadn't been with her, she might have just left him there in the Fade to give his soul the comfort and happiness she didn't think she could.

In a weaker moment, she had tearfully confessed her growing hesitance to tear this lovely dream from the man she loved the most to the dwarf/kitty. "I know you want what's best for Blondie, Hawke, and sure, he may seem happy here, but, deep down, you know he wouldn't want this. And if you can't make him snap out of it, Bianca and I will eject him from this place ourselves, no matter how much it 'hurts' him." Cat-Varric stretched and yawned, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some napping and lounging to do." Ser-Pounce-A-Varric began to trot away, "You know, if I were him, talk of all the unpleasant things I have awaiting me would make me run away, like he's doing now." Her cat-shaped friend gave her a very long, meaningful look. "But if I was reminded of something I wanted…" He left, tail swishing, leaving Marion with a quickly budding plan.

Well, that plan was scrapped the moment the spirit of Compassion abandoned them. Stupid spirits. But as she and Merrill discussed the edge they had lost, a last-ditch plan formed. Merrill could give her half an hour, just thirty minutes, in which the demons at work could not shift or change a single thing. It would have to be enough.

Hawke willed herself into something appropriately suggestive, and entered his room. "Anders…" He looked so shocked; she had to refrain from giggling, what she wouldn't give to see him make that face back in the real world. Before he had time to compose himself, she crawled on top of him and kissed him. She felt his hesitation, and it frightened her, but, in the space of a breath, he began to kiss her as desperately as she was him. When he gathered her close to him, she began to feel the man she knew and love begin to respond to her fierce, physical plea.

Anders stopped running away


	5. Chapter 4: The End

Finale

"_How long will it take before I drive you mad?" That little smirk, that was all it was going to take. Anders rushed to her, needing to feel his lips against hers. The rebel mage cradled Hawke's tormenting face as lips, hot and hungry, tore at each other and tongues danced an intoxicating dance. He could hear himself panting, if it hadn't been for his patients, he would have taken her right there, in the squalor of Darktown…_

Anders gently wrapped his arms around Marion's waist and rolled her beneath him, settling himself comfortably between her legs. He moved his mouth away from hers and trailed feather-soft kisses along her jaw and neck. All the while his long, dexterous fingers were working the thin, insubstantial, gown down around her shoulders, and eventually to her waist, leaving her breasts open for his loving attack. Anders playfully nipped at the soft skin of Marion's neck, making her shiver in the most pleasant way, as he traced frustratingly light circles around her pale pink nipple. It was then, finally, that he noticed just how cold her skin was. That wasn't right, she had always been so…

_Hot. It was almost as if her body was burning, it was no sickness, but a fever nonetheless. He had wanted to take his time, but the last three years had been too much. He had still thought to control himself, but when there was no scrap of fabric between them, just burning skin caressing burning skin, Anders could no longer wait. Before he truly realized what he was doing, Anders lifted Hawke's hips and thrust his painfully hard manhood into her ready wetness. He leant down to kiss her as he moved, but stopped short when he noticed that she was…_

Crying. The tears he was shedding wouldn't stop. What was this? Was he possessed? Whose memories were these? They couldn't be his. He didn't want them to be his. Anders tried to throw himself away from the woman on the bed, but she wouldn't let him. Marion placed a hand on the back of his neck and he felt a cool, soothing tendril of magic work its way down his spine. He hesitantly looked into her face and in it he saw her sorrow.

"Don't run away from me…please." Marion leaned forward and pressed her forehead against his. "I can't lose you, I can't. You're all I have…" Anders felt something within him rise up, he couldn't abandon this girl. He would hate himself forever if he left this poor, lovely creature to live all alone. As much as he didn't want to remember, he would. The Warden wiped away Marion's tears and gave her the most reassuring smile he could muster.

"Dear lady, I could never leave such a lovely damsel in distress." Marion chuckled half-heartedly. "Perhaps, one day, you can return the favor." He pulled her onto his lap and softly pressed his lips to hers, trying to soothe her sadness. Without speaking, the two of them shifted until they were connected in the most physically intimate of ways. But this was different than a physical act; it was if their souls were linked. In the corner of his mind, a small part of himself was hysterically trying to convince him to stop this, to move away, keep living in this wonderful dream. But Anders would not heed it, he was done with running, had been done with it for a long time now, no matter how much part of him wanted to…

_Stop. He tried to pull away, disgusted with himself. Hawke locked her legs around his torso and gave him the fiercest glare he had ever encountered. "Don't you dare." He tried to say something, but she just pulled him closer to her, until they were almost nose to nose. "I've waited three years for this, if you make me wait one second more, you will have the dubious honor of being raped by a virgin." He smirked and kissed the tip of her nose._

_ "Dear, I hate to tell you this, but that's no longer the case" Hawke smacked him playfully on the arm and laughed. Just like that, all of the guilt was banished from his mind. She wanted him, she needed him, and she loved him. Nothing else mattered. Even if Justice disagreed, even if he was forced down a path that could destroy him, that one, simple fact would give him the courage to face whatever he encountered in this life._

_ Anders picked up right where he left off, but being far more careful to take his time and be gentle with her. Before too long, with the aid of a couple clever electricity tricks and a very subtle healing spell, Hawke was frantically meeting his thrusts with her hips, urging him deeper and faster, any pain that may have been inflicted by his first, careless, movements long forgotten. He had tried to pace himself, but when she went rigid and called his name, lost in the throes of her own pleasure, Anders gave up any semblance of control and spilled his seed deep inside of her. Three years of waiting was, every torturous second of it, completely worth it._

_ They lay still for a while, limbs intertwined, completely spent and exhausted. Finally, when his arms no longer felt as if they were made of some gelatinous dessert, Anders propped up on his elbows and looked into his lover's beloved face. Maker, she had never looked so beautiful, her hair damp with sweat, her face flushed with their recent exertions, and a drowsy, blissful smile playing on her lips . He rolled to the side and gathered his sleepy little apostate to him, wrapping around her like a cocoon. No words were needed; Hawke even seemed to feel the same way, her charming, witty, sarcastic tongue, for once, was completely still. _

_ Before he had even realized it, she had drifted into a peaceful sleep, Anders cuddled her closer, leaving him alone with is thoughts. He could feel Justice's disquiet, but it didn't bother him, not right now. In this moment, all of the pain, all that he had lost, seemed inconsequential. Here, he felt like himself, more like himself than perhaps he ever had. Even if he was slowly consumed by Vengeance, there would always be a part of him that remained the same, kept alive by the light in her heart. Even if he could never fully repay her for this unknowing gift, he would do his best not to squander it._

Anders opened his eyes, and he could finally see. This Fade dream was no more expertly constructed than any other, but his weakness had made it a lovely, gilded cage. He looked into Marion's face and cupped her cheek.

"I am so sorry." The rebel mage blinked in confusion. What could she possibly be sorry for?" You were so happy; I didn't want to take it away…" She looked to be on the verge of tears; Anders just smiled and touched his nose to hers.

"Silly girl, no dream could ever make me as happy as you do. Not even a dream version of you. It would be far too idealized, and not nearly snippy enough." He grinned as she smacked him on the arm. "No, I am the one who should be sorry," he sighed and kissed her on the forehead before untangling himself from her and willing back his feathery coat, "but I think that's a discussion for when we get out of here…" Anders offered Hawke his hand and lifted her up. The Fadescape began to dissolve.

"No!" The reunited lovers turned to see a very angry Desire demon shed its assumed form of Nathaniel Howe, "You will not leave! You are far too…"A crossbow bolt hit the demon square in the chest, the demon floated briefly upwards before collapsing to the ground. Anders jaw dropped as what appeared to be Ser-Pounce-A-Lot trotted over to the Desire demons corpse and picked up the crossbow bolt with his teeth before transforming into a very familiar dwarf twirling that same bolt in his hand.

"Nice to have you back Blondie. Now, can we go save the kid we came here to save already?" Anders pointed an accusatory finger at Varric.

"You were my cat this entire time! Ugh! I let you sit in my lap! I tickled your tummy!" Anders shuddered violently. "I feel so dirty and used." Varric sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Tell me about it. I don't appreciated being felt up, at least without someone buying me dinner first." Anders and Varric, lost in their banter, seemed to forget all about Hawke. Merrill, sweet, oblivious Merrill came up to Hawke smiling.

"Well, that turned out well didn't it? Oh dear! Why are you naked?" Hawke groaned and marched after the two bickering boys, materializing her clothing and staff on the way, she didn't know if she was angry that the very tender moment she and Anders had been sharing had been interrupted, or the fact that two, TWO, men had completely ignored her naked self. One thing was certain, Torpor was going to pay, and he was going to pay dearly.


End file.
